dry with pleasure

she lacks sex like
it never existed

though she does
in fact realize
it does...
did

like memories
woken up by a smell
or a song
the result a zip
of excitement in the chest
cavity

she has two children
to prove it was once
a real part of her life

and when she feels
their weight pour
on top of her body
for cuddle time

the melting into
her own skin
is sheer euphoria:
she was meant for this.

intense longing for
anything else
is subsidiary and
superficial

though she does feel
badly;
like an allstar hitter
who cannot catch
a ball (and pretends not
to care)

she looks within-
where did it go?

the animal desire
the rough pleasure
insatiable

a palate that was
wide and diverse
and welcome to
new tastes
to being tasted
all of it:
primal need.

gone.

she dwells not long
on the thought for
she is so completely
satisfied
amused in
every other
way

a joke her son tells
and smile her daughter
throws, muddle her memory
create new need

she remembers now,
it was always
on the fly:

a couch with parents
asleep upstairs

a dorm room
roomate bunked below

never was it 'okay'
it was always the wrong
thing to be doing

loved that

now, it is expected
and she is officially
bored.

this,
her mamahood
is her main mission
she thrives
succeeds and inhales
each of their tiny
milky breaths
as if they were the last
in the moment
always

only thing worse
than low libido:
low energy to cure
low libido.